Miscellany 39

MISCELLANY 39

THE PITIFULL LIFE

OF KYNG EDWARD THE. V.

IV: Buckingham questions Sanctuary

The Archbishop having failed to persuade the Queen to leave Sanctuary, Richard of Gloucester continues his arguments, now supported by the Duke of Buckingham, who questions the whole concept of Sanctuary and argues that it should certainly be thought perfectly reasonable to remove someone by force if they should never have sought Sanctuary in the first place, and he regards the Queen as having abused the concept and therefore liable to eviction. The Council of Lords temporal and spiritual begins to veer in this direction and finally the whole Council goes in to see the Queen, who after much browbeating by them, and in great doubt and with great misgivings agrees to hand over her younger son Richard, on condition that the Archbishop directly looks after him and the Council promise to protect him.  The young prince Richard is delivered and reunited with his brother, they are taken to the Tower of London (which at the time was a perfectly normal palace as well as a prison), and, as Hall tersely states, the two young brothers were never seen again.

Naye womannishe frowardnesse [contrariness] quod the Duke of Buckyngham, for I dare take it on my solle that she well knoweth that she nedeth no such thynge to feare, either for her Sonne or for her self. For as for her, here is no man that will be at warre with women, would God some men of her kynne were women to, and then sltould all be sone in rest, Howbeit, there is none of her kynne the lesse loued for that hcy be of her kynne, but for their ownc euill deseruynge. And put the case that we neither loued her nor her kynne, yet there were no cause why we should hate the kings noble brother to whose grace we oure selfes be kynne, whose honoure yf she desired as oure dishonoure, and as much regard toke to his wealth as to her awne wyll, she could be as loth to sufire him to be absent from the kyng as any of vs, yf she had any wytte, as would God she had as good wyll as she hath frowarde wytte. For she thinketh her self no wyser then some that are here, of whose faithful myndes she nothing doubteth, but vcrely beleuetb and kuowlegeth that they woulde be as sorye of his harme as her awne selfe, and yet they would bane him from her if she abyde there. And wc all I thynke be content that bothe her chyldrcn be with her if she came from thence and abyde in suchc place where they may be with their honour. Nowe yf she refuse in the deliueraunce of him to folowe the wysedome of them, whose wysedome she knoweth, whose approbate fidelitie she well trusteth: it is easye to percewe that frowardenesse letteth her, and not feare. But go to, suppose that she feareth (as who may let her to feare her awne shadowe) the more we ought to fear to leaue hym in her handes, for yf she cast such fond doubtes that she feare his hurte, then wyll she feare that he shall be fet thence, for she wyll soone thynke that yf men were set (which God forbyd on so great a mischief) the sanctuary wyl litle let them, which sanctuary good men as me thinketh might without synne, somewhat lesse regard then they do. Now then, if she doubt least he might be fetched from her. is it not likely that she wyll send him somewhere out of the realme? verely I loke for none other. And I doubt not but she now as sore myndeth it, as we mynde the let therof: And if she might hap to bring that purpose to passe, as it were no great mastery to do, we letting her alone, all the world would say that we were a sorte of wyse cousaillers about a king to let his brother to be cast away vnder oure noses. And thcrfore I ensure you faithfully, for my mynde, I wyll rather maugrc her stomacke fetche hym awaye, then leue him there till her feare or fond frowarde feare conuey him away, and yet will I breake no sanctuary, for verely sith the priuelege of that place and other of that sorte have so long continued, I would not go about to breake it, but yf they were nowe to begynne I woulde not be he that should make them: yet wyl not I say nay, but it is a deedc of pitie, that such men as the chaunce of the sea, or their euill debters haue brought into pouertee, should haue some place of refuge to kepe in their bodies out of the daungcr of their cruel crcditours. And if it fortune the croune to come in question as it hath done before this tyme whyle eche parte taketh other for traytours, I thynke it nccessarye to haue a place of refuge for bothe: But as for theucs and murthercrs, wherof these places be full, and which ncuer falle from their crafte after they once fallc therunto, it is pytec that euer sanctuary should serue them, and in especiall wylfull murtherers, whom God commaundeth to be taken from the aulter and to be put to death. And where it is othcrwyse then in these cases, there is no nede of sainctuaries, apointed by God in the old lawe. For yf ncccssitc of his owne defence or misfortune driued hym to that deede, then a pardon scructh him, which either is graunted of course, or ye kyng of pytee and compassion geueth. Nowe loke howc fewe sainctuary men there be whom nccessitee or misfortune compelled to go thethcr? And then see on the other syd, what a sortc there be commonly therein of such, whom wylfull vnthriftynes hath brought to naught? what a rable of tlieues, murtherers and malicious beynous traitours be, and that in two places specially, the one at the elbow of the cytee, and the other in the very bowels. I dare well a vowe it, yf you way the good that they do, with the hurte that commeth of them, ye shall fynde it muche better to lese both then to haue both. And this I say, although they were not abused (as they now be and so longe haue bene) that I feare me euer they wyll be whyle men be afearde to set to their handes to the amendemente, as though God and saincte Peter were the patrons of vngracious liuynge. Now vnthriftes riote and ronne in debte vpon boldnes of these places, yea, and ritche menne ronne thyther with poore mens goodes, there they buylde, there they spende and byd their crcditours goo whystle. Mens wyues ronne thither with their husbands plate, and say they dare not abyde with their husbandes for betyngc, theucs bring thether stollen goodes and lyue theron. There deuyse they newe robberies nightely and steale oute and robbe, riue, and kyll menne and come agayne into those places, as though those places gaue them not onely a sauegard for the harme that they haue done, but a licence also to do more mischiefe: howebeit, much of this great abusion, (yf wyse menne woulde sette their handes there vnto) might be amended, with great thankes of God and no breche of the priuelege. The conclusion is, sithe it is so long a goo I wote not what pope and what prince more piteous then politique, hath graunted it, and other men sence of a religious feare haue not broken it, lette vs take a paine with it, and lette it stande a Goddes name in his force, as far furthe as reason will, whiche is not so farfurthe as may serue too lette vs of the fetching furthe of this noble manne to his honoure and wealthe out of that place in the whiche he ne- ther is nor can bee a sanctuarye or priueleged man. A sanctuarye euer seruethe too defende the body of that manne that standeth in daunger abi ode, not of greate hurte ouely, but of lawfull hurte: for againste vnlawfull hurtes and harmes no pope ner kynge entended to priuilege any one place wherein it is lawefull for one manne to doo another manne wronge. That no manne vnlawefully take hurte that libertie the kynge, the lawe and verie nature forbiddeth in euery place and maketh too that regarde for euery manne euery place a sanctuarye: but where a manne is by lawefull meanes in perell, there nedeth be the tuicion of some speciall priuilege, whiche is the onely ground of all sanctuaries, from whiche necessitee this noble prince is far, whose loue to his kynge nature and kynred proueth, whose innocence too all the worlde, his tender youth affirmeth, and so sanctuarye as for hym is not necessary, ner none he can haue. Menne come not too sanctuarye as they come too baptisme to require it by his godfathers, he muste aske it hym selfe that muste haue it, and reason, sithe no manne hathc cause to haue it, but whose consience of his awne faute maketh hym haue nede to require it. What will then hath younder babe, which yf he had discrecion to require it yf nede were, I dare saye woulde bee nowe righte angry with them that kepe him there? And I would thinke withoute any scruple of conscience, without any breche of priuilege too be somwuat more homely with theim that be there sanctuarye menne in dede, that yf one go to sanctuary with another mannes goodes, why should not the king leuyng his body at liberty satisfy the party of his goodes euen within the sanctuarye, for nether kyng nor pope can geue any place such a priuilege that it shall discharge a man of his debtes beeyng hable to paie.

And with that diuerse of the clergie that were there present, whether, they saied it for his pleasure or as they thought, agreed plainly by the lawe of God and of the church that the goodes of a sanctuarye man should be deliuered in paiment of his debtes, and stollen goodes to the owner, and onelye libertie reserued to hym to get his liuyng with the labour of his handes. Verely quod the duke I thynke ye saye very truth: And what if a mans wife take sanctuary because she list to ronne fro her husband? I would thynke if she can allege none other cause he may laufully without any displeasure done too sainct Peter, take her out of saincte Peters church by the arme. And yf no body may be taken out of sanctuary because he saieth he will abide there, then yf a chylde will take Sanctuary because he fcareth to go to schoole, his master must let hym alone. And as simple as that example is, yet is there lesse reason in our case then in it, for there, though it be a childeshe feare, yet is there at the least some feare, and herein is no feare at all. And verely I haue harde of sanctuarye menne, but I neuer harde before of sanctuary children, ... and he that taketh one out of sanctuary to do hym good I saie plainly he breaketh no sanctuary.

When the duke had done, the temporal menne wholy, and the most parte of the spirituall menne also thynkynge no hurt earthely ment toward the young baby, condisccnded in effecte that yf he wer not deliucred he shoulde be fetched oute. Howbeit, they thought it beste in aduoydyng of all maner of rumour, that the cardinall shoulde firste assaie to get him with her good will. And thervpon all the counsaill came to ye sterre chamber at Westminster, and the cardinal leauing the protectour and other lords in the sterre chamber, departed into the sanctuarye to yr quene, accompaignied with certain lordes, were it for the respecte of his honour or that she should by the persones of so many, perceiue that his arrande was not onely one mans mynde, or were it for that the protectour entended not in this matter to truste one manne alone, or els if she finally were determined to kepe hym, some of the compaignie had paraduenture some secrete instruction incontinente maugree her will too take him and to leaue her no respite to conueigh him.

When the quene and these lordes were come together in presence, the Cardinall shewed vnto  her that it was thought to the lorde protector and the whole counsaill that her kepyng of the kyng his brother in that place highly sounded, not onely to the grudge of the people & their obloquy, but also to the importable grief and displeasure of the kynge his royall maiestye, to whose grace it were a synguler comforte to haue his naturall brother in compaignie, and it was their bothes dishonoures & theirs and hers also, to suffre him in sanctuary, as though the one brother stode in danger and perell of the other. And he shewed her farther that the whole counsaill had sent hym to require of her the deliuerye of him that he might be brought to the king his presence at his libertie out of that place which men reconed as a prisone, and there should he be demeaned according to his estate and degree, & she in this doing should both do great good to the realme, pleasure to the counsaill, profite to her self, succour to her frendes that wer in distresse, and ouer that, which he wiste well she specially tendered, not onely greate comforte and honour to the king but also to the young duke hym selfe, whose both great wealth it were to be together, aswell for many greater causes as also for their both disport and recreacion, whiche thinges the lordes estemed not lighte, though it semed light, well ponderynge that their youth without recreacion and play cannot endure, ner any estraunger for the conuenience of both their ages & estates so motely in that poinct for any of them as the either of them for thother.

My lord (quod the quene,) I saie not nay, but that it were very conueniente that this gentleman whom you require were in the compaignie of the kyng his brother, and in good faith me thinketh it wer as great commoditee to theim both, as for yet a while too be in the custody of their mother the tendre age considered of the elder of theim both, but in especiall the younger, whiche besides his infancie that also nedeth good lookynge to hath a while been so sore diseased with sickenes and is so newlye rather a litle amended then well recouered, that I dare put no persone earthly in truste with his kepyng, but my selfe onely, considering there is as phisicians saie, and as we also finde, double the perell in the resiluacion that was in the firste sickenes, with which disease nature beeyng sore laboured, sore weried and weakened, waxeth the lesse hablc to bear our a new surfet. And albeit there might be founde other that woulde happely doo their best vnto hym, yet is there none that either knoweth better how to ordre hym then I, that so long haue kept him, or is more tendrely like too cherishe hym then his owne mother that bare hym. No man denieth good madame, quod the Cardinall, but that your grace of all folke wer moste necessary aboute your chyldren, and so woulde all the counsaill not onely bee contente but also glad that it were if it might stand with your pleasure to be in such place as might stand with their honoure,

However, after much argument and persuasion by the Archbishop of Canterbury...

at the laste she toke the young duke by the hand and said vnto the lordes, my lorde quod she and all my lordes, neither am I so vnwyse to mystruste your wittes, nor so suspicious to mistruste your truthes: of the which thyng I purpose to make suche a proofe, that if either of both lacked in you, might turne both me to great sorowe, the realms to much harme and you to great reproche. For lo, here is quod she this gentleman whom I doubt not but I could kepe safe if I would, whatsoeuer any manne saie, and I doubte not also but there be some abroade so dedly enemies vnto my bloud, that yf they wiste where any of it lay in their own body they would let it out: we haue also experieuce that the desire of a kyngdome knoweth no kynrede, the brother hath been the brothers bane, and may the nephewes be sure of the vncle? eche of these children are others defence while they be asunder, and eche of their liues lieth in others body, kepe one safe and both be sure, and nothing to both more perilous then both too be in one place: for a wise marchaunte neuer auentureth al his gooddes in one ship. Al this notwithstandyng, here I deliuer him and his brother in him, to kepe to your handes, of whome I shall aske them bothe before God and the worlde. Faithefull you be and that I wote well, and I knowe you be wise and of power and strength yf you liste to kepe him, for you lacke no helpe of your selues, nor nede to lacke no helpe in this case, and yf you cannot els where, then maye you leaue hym here: But onely one thyng I beseche you, for the trust that his father put you in euer, and for the truste that I putte you in now, that as farre as you thynke that I feare to muche, ye be well ware that you feare not to litle. And therewith all she saied to the chyld, fare well mine owne swete sonne, God send you good kepyng, let me once kisse you or you go, for God knoweth whe we shal kisse together agayn, & therewith she kyssed hym, & blessed hym, and turned her backe & wepte, goyng her waie, leauyng the poore innocent chylde wepyng as faste as the mother. When the Cardinail and the other lordes had receyued the younge duke, they brought him into the starre chaumbre, where the protectoure toke him into his armes and kissed hym with these wordes: now welcome my lorde with all my verie herte, & he saied in that of likelihod euen as he inwardely thought, and there vpon, furthwith brought him to the kyng his brother into the bishoppes palace at Paules, and from thence through the cytee honorably into the tower, out of which after that daie they neuer came abrode.

Richard’s dastardly deeds continue next week

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Miscellany 38

MISCELLANY 38

THE P1TIFULL LIFE

OF KYNG EDWARD THE. V.

III: The Queen in Sanctuary

The Queen discovers Richard’s trick in taking control of Edward V, and, quite rightly fearing for the succession, claims sanctuary in the monastery of Westminster Abbey with her younger son, the ten-year-old Richard, Duke of York.  At the time anyone could claim sanctuary in such a way, and could not be touched by anyone pursuing them.  She is reassured by the Archbishop of York that she is worrying unduly.  Edward V arrives in London with his ‘loving and supportive’ uncle Richard of Gloucester, who pubicly treats him with all due deference while setting about somehow persuading the Queen to leave Sanctuary, arguing that the young king is lonely without his little  brother.  The Archbishop of Canterbury is deputed to go to the Queen and try to persuade her to give up herself and her younger son, and if she will not do so voluntarily, then by force; the Archbishop agrees to try to persuade her but rightly refuses to break Sanctuary by using force if she refuses to move.

With this heauy tidynges the queue bewayled her chyldes ruyne, her frendes mischaunce, and her owne infortune, curssyng the tyme that euer she was perswaded to leaue the gatherynge of people to brynge vp the kynge with a greate powre, but that was passed, and therefore nowe she toke her younger sonne the duke of Yorke and her doughters and went out of the palays of Westminster into the sanctuary, and there lodged in the abbotes place, and she and all her chyldren and compaignie were regestred for sanctuarye persons. The same night there came to doctor Rotheram Archebyshop of Yorke and lorde Chauncelour, a messenger from the lord Chambrelayne to Yorke place besyde Westminster: the messenger was brought to the bishoppes bedsyde and declared to him that the dukes were gone backe with the young kyng to Northampton, and declared further, that the lorde Hastynges his maister sent him worde that he shoulde feare nothyng for all should be well. Wel (quod the archebishop) be it as wel as it wyl, it wyll neuer be so wel as we haue sene it, and then the messenger departed. Wherupon the bishop called vp all his seruauntes and toke with hym the great scale and came before day to the quene, about whom he found much heauynesse, rumble, haste, businesse, conueighaunce and cariage of hir stuffe into sanctuarye, euery man was busye to carye, beare and conueigh stuffe, chestes & fardelles, no man was vnoccupicd, and some caried more then they were commauuded to another place. The quene sat alone belowe on the rushes all desolate & dismayde, whom the Archebishoppe conforted in the best maner that he coulde, shewyng her that the matter was nothyng so sore as she tooke it for, and that he was putte in good hope and out of feare by the message seme to hym from the lorde Hastynges. A wo worth him quod the quene, for it is he that goeth about to destroy me and my blodde. Madame quod he, be of good comfortc and 1 assure you, yf they crovvne any other kynge then your sonne whom they nowe haue, we shal on the inorow croune his brother whom you haue here with you. And here is the great seale, which in lykewisc as your noble husband deliuered it to me, so I deliuer it to you to the vse of your sonne and thcrwith deliuered her the greate seale, and departed home in the dawning of the day. And when he opened his wyndowes and loked on the Temys, he might see the riuer full of boates, of the duke of Gloucester hs seruauntes watching, that no person should go to sanctuary, nor none should passe vnserched.

 'Iheu «as there great rumourc and commotion in the citee and in other places, the people diuerscly diuined vpon this dealyuge. .And diuerse lordes, kuightes and gentilmen, either for fauoure of the quene or for feare of them selfes, assembled compaignies and wente flockyng together in harneis. And many also, for that they recompted this demeanour attempted, not so specially against other lordes as against the kynge hym selfe in the dysturbaunce of his coronation, therefore they assembled by and by together to common of this matter at London. The Archebishoppe of Yorke fearingc that it woulde be ascribed (as it was in dede,) to ouermuch lightnes, that he so sodeinly had yelded vp the great seale to the quene, to whom the custody therof nothing apperteigned without especial commaundemente of the kynge, mete with the lordes.

...

When the kynge approched nere the cytee, Edmonde Shawe Goldcsmythe then Mayre of the cytie with the Aldermenne and shreues in skarlet, and fyue hundreth commoners in murraye reccyued his grace reuerently at Harnesay Parke [Now Hornsey Park, in north London], and so conueighed him to the cytee, where he entred the fourth day of May, in the fyrst and last yere of his reigne, aud was lodged in the bishoppe of Londons Palayce: but ye duke of Gloucester bare him in open sight so reuerently, saying to all men as he rode behold your prince and souereigne lord, and made such sembleaunce of lowlynes to his prince, that from the great obloquy that he was in so late before, he was sodenly fallen in so great trust that at the councel next assembled he was made the onely chiefe ruler, and thought most mete to be protectoure of the king and his realme:so that, were it destiny or were it foly, the lambe was betaken to the wolfe to kepe. At whiche councell the Archebishop of Yorke was sore blamed for deliueryng the great seale to the quene, and the seale taken from him and deliuered to doctor Ihon Russel bishop of Lyncolne, a wyse man and a good and of much experience, and diuerse lordes and knyghtes were appointed to diuerse roumes, the lord Chamberlayne and some other kept the roumes that they wer in before, but not many.

Now were it so that the protectour (which alwayes you must take for the duke of Gloucester) sore thristed for the acheuynge of his pretensed enterpryse and thought euery daye a yere tyll it were perfourmed, yet durste he no further attempt as long as he had but half his pray in his hand, well wittyng that yf he deposed the one brother, all the realme woulde fall to the other, yf  he remayned either in sanctuarye or shoulde happely be shortly conueighed to his fathers libertie. Whcrfore incontinent at the next metynge of the lordes in councel he purposed to them that it was an heynous thyng of the quene, and procedyng of great malice  toward the kynges councelers that she shoulde kepe the kynges brother in sanctuarye from him whose speciall pleasure and comfort were to haue his brother with him, and that to be done by her to none other intent, but to brynge all the lordes in an obloquy and murmoure of the people, as though they were not to be trusted with the kynges brother, whiche lordes were by the whole assent of the nobles of the realme appointed as the kynges nere frendes to the tuycion of his royall person, the prosperitee wherof (quod he) standeth not alonely in kepynge from enemies and euill dyate, but partly also in recreacion & moderate pleasure, whiclie he cannot take in his tendre youth in the cotnpaignye of old and auncient persones, but in the familiare conuersacion of those that be not far vnder nor farre aboue his age, and neuerthelesse, of estate conueniente to accompany his maiestie, wherfore with whom rather then with his owne brother? and yf any man thynke this consideracion lighte (I thynke no man so thynketh that loueth the king) let hym consider that somtyme without smal thynges, greater cannot stand, and verely it redouneth greatly to the dishonour of the kynges highnes and of all vs that be about his grace to haue it come in any mans mouth, not in this realme onely, but also in other landes (as euill wordes walke far) that yr kynges brother should be fayne to kepe sanctuary. For euery man wyll iudge that no man wyll so do for nought, and such opinions fastened in mens hartes be harde to be wrested out, and may grow to more grief then any man here can diuine. Wherfore me thinketh it were not ye worst to send to the quene some honourable and trustie personage, such as tendreth the kings weale and the honour of his councell, and is also in credite and fauoure with her: for which consideracions none semeth more metely to me then the reuerend father my lorde Cardinall archebishop of Cauntorbury, who may in this matter do most good of all men yf it please him to take the payne, whiche I doubt not of his goodnes he will not refuse for the kings sake and ours and wealth of the young duke him selfe the kings most honorable brother, and for the conforte of my souereigne lorde hym self my most dearest nephiewe, considcryng that therby shalbe ceased the slaunderous rumore and obloquy now going abrode, and the hurtes auoyded that therof might ensue, and then must rest and quietnesse growe to all the realme. And yf she percase be so obstinate and so precisely set in her own will and opinion, that neither his wyse and faithfull aduertisemente can moue her nor any mans reason satisfye her, then shall we by myne aduice by the kynges authorytee fetch hym out of that prison and brynge him to his noble presence, in whose continuall compaignye he shalbee so well cheryshed and so honorably intreated that all the worlde shall to our honour and her reproche perceiue that it was onely malice, frowardnesse and foly, that caused her to kepe him there. This is my mind for this time, except that any of you my lordes any thyng perceyue to the contrari, for neuer shal I by Gods grace so wed my self vnto myne owne wil, but I shalbe redy to chaunge it vpon your better aduices.

When the Protectour had sayde, all the councell affirmed that the mocion was good and reasonable, and to the king and the duke his brother honourable, and a thyng that should ceasse great murmoure in the realme, yf the mother might by good meanes be induced to delyuer him: whiche thing the Archebishop of Cauntorburye, whom they all agreed also to be moost conuenient therunto, tooke vpon hym to moue her, and therto to do his vttermooste endeuoure.  Howbeit yf she coulde in no wise be intreated with her good wyll to delyuer hym, then thought he and such of the spiritualtie as wer present, that it were not in any wyse too bee attempted to take hym out againste her wyll, for it woulde be a thyng that should turne to the grudge of all men and high displeasure of God, yf the pryuilege of that place should be broken whiche had so many yeres bene kept, whiche bothe Kynges and Popes had graunted and confirmed, which ground was sanctifyed by Sainct Peter him selfe more then fyue hundreth yeres agone. And syth that tyrne, was neuer so vndeuoute a kynge that euer enterprised that sacred priuilege to violate, nor so holy a byshop that durste presume the church of the same to consecrate: and therefore quod the Archebishop, God forbid that any manne shoulde for any yearthely enterprise breake the immunitie and libertie of that sacred sanctuary that hath bene the safegard of so many a good mans life, but I trust quod he, we shall not ncde it, but for any maner of nede I would we should not do it, I trust that she with reason shalbe contented and all thing in good maner obteined. And yf it hap that I brynge it not to passe, yet shall I further it to my best power, so that you all shall pcrceyue my good wyll, diligence, and indeauourc: But the mothers drcade and womanishe feare shalbe the let yf any be. 

It gets worse...

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Miscellany 37

MISCELLANY 37

THE P1TIFULL LIFE

OF KYNG EDWARD THE. V.

II: The Accession of Edward V

The Accession of Edward V; His Journey towards London protected by uncles on his mother’s side of the family (Queen Elizabeth Wodville); Richard intercepts them at Nottingham and arrests the king’s maternal uncles, taking over control of the new King, Edward V, aged 13

The younge kynge at the deathe of his father kepte houshoulde at Ludlowe, for his father had sente hym thether for Iustice to be dooen in the Marches of Wales, to the ende that by the autoritee of his presence, the wilde Welshemenne and eiuell disposed pcrsonnes should refrain from their accustomed murthers and outrages. The gouernaunce of this younge Prince was committed too lord Antony Wooduile erle Ryuers and lorde Scales, brother to the quene, a wise, hardy and honourable personage, as valiaunte of handes as pollitique of counsaill and with hym were associate other of the same partie, and in effect euery one as he was nerer of kynne vnto the quene, so was he planted nexte aboute the prince. That drift by the quene semed to be diuised, whereby her bloudde mighte of righte in tender vouthe bee so planted in the princes fauoure, that afterwarde it shoulde hardely bee eradic ted out of the same.

 The duke of Gloucester turned all this to their distruction, and vpon that grounde set the foundacionof his vnhappy buyldyng: For whom soeuer he perceiued too bee at variaunce with theim, or to beare toward hym selfe any fauoure, he brake vnto theim, some by mouthe, some by writynge and secrete messengers, that it was neither reason nor yet to be suffered that the younge kynge their master and kynsman shoulde bee in the handes and custody of his mothers kynrede, sequestered in maner from their compaignic and attendaunce, of whiche euery one oughtc hym as faithefull seruice as they, and many of theim of fane more hono- rable parte of kynne then his mothers side, whose bloud quod the duke of Gloucester sauyng the kyng his pleasure, was farre vnmete to bee matched with his, which now to bee remoued from the kyng and the leaste noble to bee lefte aboute hym, is quod he neither honourable to his maieslie nor too vs, and also too hym lesse suretie, to haue tlie nobles and mightiest of his frendes from hym, & to vs all no litle ieopardie to suffre, and specially our well proued euill willers too growe into greate autoritee with the kynge in youthe, namely whiche is lighte of belefe and soone perswaded. Ye remembre that kyng Edward hym self, albeit he was bothe of age and discrecion, yet was he ruled in many tliynges by that bende, more then stode either with his honour or our profite, or with the comoditee of anye man els, excepte ouely the immoderate auauncemente of theim selues, which whether they thirsted sore after their owne weale or no, it were harde I thynke to gesse. And yf some folkes frendeshipe had not holden better place with the kynge then any respecte of kynrede, they might, paraduenture, easely haue trapped and broughte to confusion some of vs or this: and why not as easely as thei haue dooen other or this as nere of the blud royal I, but our loide hath w rough te his will, and thanked bee his grace that perell is paste: howebeit as greate is growyng if we suffre this young kyng in his enemies handes, whiche, without his wittyng might abuse the name of his commaundemente to any of our vndoyng, whiche tliinges God and good prouision forbid, of whiche good prouision none of vs hath any thynge tae lesse nede for the late attone- mete made, in whiche ye kyng his pleasure had more place then the parties hertes or willes, nor none of vs is so vnwise or somuch ouersene as to trust a newefrend made of an old foo, or to thinke that any onely kindenesse so sodenly contracted in an houre, continued scantly yet a fourtnight, should bee deper set in our stomackes, then a longe accustomed malice many yeres rooted.

With these perswasions and writinges, the duke of Gloucester sette afire theim whiche were casie to kyndle, and in especial twain, Henry duke of Buckyngham, and Willyam lord Hastynges, and lord Chamberlain, bothe menne of honoure and of greate power, the one by longe succession from his aunceters, thother by his offices and the kynge his fauoure. These two not bearynge eache to other so much loue, as hatred both to ye quenes bloud, accorded together with the duke of Gloucester that thei would remoue from the kyng all his mothers frendes, vnder the name of their enemies.

Where vpon the duke of Gloucester beynge aduertised that the lordes aboute the kynge entended to brynge hym to London to his coronacion, accompaigned with suche a number of their frendes that it shoulde be harde for hym to brynge his purpose to passe without the assemblyng and gatheryng of people & in maner of open wane, wherof the ende he wyst was doubtful!, and in the which the kyng beyng on the other syde, his parte shoulde haue the name and face of rebellion.

He secretely therefore by diuerse meanes caused the quene to be perswaded that it was neither nede & should also be ieoperdeous for ye kyng to come vp so strong, for as now euery lord loued other and none other thyng studied for, but the triumphe of his coronacion & honoure of the kyng. And the lordes about the kyng, should assemble in the kyngea names muche people, thei should geue ye lordes betwixt whom & them ther had bene some tyme debate, an occasion to feare and suspecte least they should gather this people, not for the kynges saue guard, whom no man impugned, but for their destruction, hauyng more regarde to their olde variaunce then to their new attonement, for the which cause they on the other parte might assemble men also for their defence, whose powres she wyst well farre stretched, and thus should all the realme fal in a roare, & of the mischiefe that therof should ensue (whiche was likely to be not a litle) ye moste harme was like to fal where she least woulde, & then all the world would put her & her kynred in the blame, saiyng that they had vnwysely and vntruely broken the amytie and peace whiche the kynge her husband had so prudently made betwene her kynred and his, whiche amyte his kynne had alwaics obserued.

The quene beyng thus perswaded, sent worde to the kyng and to her brother, that there was no cause nor nede to assemble any people, & also the duke of Gloucester and other lordes of his bend, wrote vnto ye kyng so reuerently and to the quenes frendes there so louyngly, that they nothinge yearthly mistrustyng, brought the young kynge towarde London w ith a sober compaignie in great haste (but not in good spede) til he came to Northampton, and from thence he remoued to Stony stratford. On whiche day. the two dukes and their bende came to Northampton, fainyng that Stony stratfod could not lodge them al, where thei foud the erle Riuers, entendynge the nextamornynge to haue folowed the kynge, and to he with him earely in the mornyng. So that night, the dukes made to the erle Ryuers frendly chere, butassone as they were departed very familier with greate curtesie in open sight & therle Ryuers lodged: the two dukes with a fewe of their priuy frendes fel to councel, wherin they spent a great parte of the night, and in the dawnynge of the daye they sent aboute priuely to their seruauntes in their lodgynges to hast to horsebacke for their iordes were in maner redy to ryde, whervpo  all their seruauntes were ready or [ere] the lorde Ryuers seruauntes were awake. Nowe had the dukes taken the keyes of the ynne into their possession, so that none shoulde yssue out withoute their consent. And ouer this in the high way towarde Stony stratforde, they set certayne of their folkes that should cause and compell to retourne againe all persons that were passyng from Northampton to Stony stratforde, saiyng that the dukes them selfs would be the fyrst that should come to the kyng from Northampton: thus they bare folkes in hand. But when the earlc Ryuers vnderstode the gates closed and the wayes on euery syde beset, neither his seruauntes, neither him selfe suffered to go out, perceyuinge so great a thynge with-out his knowledge, not begon for noughte, comparynge this present doyng with the laste nightes chere, in so fewe houres so greate a chaunge, marueilously myslyked it. Howebeit; sythe he coulde not get awaye, he determined not to kepe him selfe close, least he should seme to hyde him selfe for some secret feare of his owne faute, wherof he saw no such cause in him selfe, wherfore on the suretie of his owne conscience he determined to goo to them and to inquire what this matter might meane: Whom assone as they sawe, they beganne to quarel with him, affirmyng that he pretended to set distaunce betwene the kyng and them to brynge them to confusion, whiche shoulde not lye in hys powre, and when he beganne as he was an eloquente and well spoken manne in goodlywyse to excuse hym selfe, they woulde not heare his aunswere but tokc hym by force and put hym in ward. And then they mounted on horsbacke and came in haste to Stony stratforde, where the kynge was goyng to horsebacke, because he would leaue the lodgyng for them, for it was to straight for bothe the compaignies. And when thei came to his presence, they alighted and their compaignie aboute them, and on their knees saluted hym, and he them gentely receiued, nothing yerthly knowyng ner mistrustyng as yet. The duke of Buckyngham said aloude, on afore gentlemen, and yomen kepe your roumes, and therwith in ye kynges presence they picked a quarel to the lord Richard Grey the quenes sonne, and brother to the lord Marques & halfe brother to the king saiyng that he and the Marques his brother and the lord Ryuers his vncle had compassed to rule the kyng and the realme and set variaunce betwene thestates, & to subdue and destroy the noble blonde of the realme. And towarde thacomplishemente of the same, they sayde, the lord Marques had entred into the towre of London, and thence had taken out treasure and sent men to the sea, which thynges these dukes knewe well wer done for a good purpose and as very necessary, appointed by the who!e counsaill at London, but somewhat they muste saye: vnto the whiche woordes the kynge answered, what my brother Marques hath done I cannot save, but in good faythe I dare well answere for mine vncle Riuers and my brother here, that they be innocente of suche mattiers. Yee my lieage quod the duke of Buckyngham, they haue kept the dealyng of these matters farre from the knowledge of youre good grace. And furthwith they arrested the lord Rychard and sir Thomas Vaugham & sir Richard Hawte knyghtes, in the kyngs presence, & broughte the kyng and all back to Northampton, where they toke further counsaill in their affaires. And there they sent from the kyng whom it pleased them, & set aboute him such seruauntes as better pleased them then him. At which dealyng he wepte and was rot content, but it booted not. And at dynner, the duke of Glocester sent a dyshe from his owne table to the lord Ryuers, praiyng him to bee of good chere and all shoulde be well, he thanked him & prayed the messenger to beare it to his nephicwe the lorde Richard with like wordes, whom he knewe tohaue nede of comfort, as one to whom such aduersite was straunge, but he hym selfe had bene all his daies ennured thcrwith, and therfore could beare it the better. But for al this message, the duke of Gloucester sent ye lorde Ryuers, the lord Richard and sir Thomas Vaughain and sir Richarde Ilawte into the Northparties into diuerse prisons, but at last, al came to Pomfret [Pongffact] where they all foure were beheaded without iudgement.

 In this maner as you haue hard, the duke of Gloucester toke on him the eouernaunce of the yonge kyng, whom with much reuerence he conueied towardes London. These tidynges came hastely to the quene before mydnighte, by a very sore reporte that the kynge her sonne was taken and that her brother and her other Sonne and other her frendes were arrested, and sent, no man wyste whether.

To be continued

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